


Sir

by aph_aleks (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Paul, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Mcstarr - Freeform, Smut, Top Ringo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 22:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/aph_aleks
Summary: Ringo fucks Paul; it's dom/sub, and hot, and then there's some cute scenes.





	Sir

"Oh fuck-  _ fuck, _ " Paul moaned loudly, attempting to grip onto Ringo's shoulders as the older fucked him, but was stopped as he tried. Ringo completely halted all movement, fingers wrapped around Paul’s wrists, holding them down above his head; he knew that he might have small bruises around his wrists the next morning, but he seriously did not care - this was  _ everything  _ he wanted. 

"I told you, no touching." He said in a stern voice, looking into the younger’s eyes with an expectant look in his own eyes - he waited for an apology, albeit not patiently. Instead, Paul giggled and pulled his wrists from Ringo’s grasp, flipping them over so he was on top. The older gasped almost silently, a small glare directed at the man now above him.

The younger almost  _ never  _ did this, disobeyed him, he  _ never did _ , Ringo was shocked and slightly thrilled, letting Paul do what he wanted for a moment before he was punished. He knew the younger would get more entertainment out of Ringo instantly reacting, so he put on a facade that he had given up.

Paul ground his hips down in circular movements, searching for pleasure -  _ seeking  _ it, though Ringo wasn't moving with him, he was looking up at him with a certain dominance. "What is it, Sir?" The older asked playfully, hands resting on Ringo’s chest while he fucked himself on his cock, "Are you going to  _ punish _ me?" His voice came out gravelly, strained. It came out like he  _ wanted  _ to be punished,  _ eager -  _ and yes, he did want it, he loved it when Ringo punished him. Absolutely  _ loved it,  _ there was no other word or phrase for it other than that. 

" _ Don't _ disrespect me," Ringo said suddenly, voice even more stern than before, making Paul want to literally melt and succumb to every demand Ringo had for him without hesitation (even if he  _ was  _ his submissive, sometimes he  _ didn't _ listen to him) -  _ fucking hell _ , Paul loved this. How relentlessly dominant Ringo was.

Ringo, to others, didn't seem like the type to do this, to dominate somebody, but for Paul he was. Ringo had  _ never _ bottomed for him - maybe for John, maybe for George, but never for him; while with Paul something changed. He became demanding, became absolutely in charge, completely  _ domineering.  _ A switch - that's what he was, but  _ never  _ for Paul. 

Then, Ringo pulled out, leaving the younger empty and clenching around nothing at all -  _ fuck.  _ The younger wanted to scream, or cry, or both because the feeling of being full had left him with merely an empty one. Ringo was unpredictable, he could literally just tie Paul up and leave him there for someone else to find, or something even worse - he  _ could  _ do nothing, let the younger’s erection stay, never let him come.

"What are you-" Paul whined quietly but was cut off when Ringo grabbed his thighs, moving him so he wasn't  _ sitting  _ in his lap, but so that he was laying  _ over  _ his lap. The older pulled his hips up so his arse was high in the air, on display for just him to see and do as he pleased. 

"What do you say, baby?" The older asked, bringing his hand down against Paul’s arse,  _ hard _ . The younger inhaled sharply and pushed back against the hand that came back down multiple more times, leaving his arse red and stinging -  _ he loved it.  _

"I'm sorry, Sir," He answered,  _ loving  _ how Ringo’s hand came down against him, leaving a red mark in its wake and a smile on his face. Though he missed the feeling of the older inside him, he was thoroughly enjoying this too. 

He jolted with every slap, trying to rub his crotch against the older’s lap, which only earned him more. He knew he wasn't allowed to rub against Ringo while being spanked, it was one of the rules, but he  _ really  _ couldn't help himself. He'd gone from being roughly fucked to being roughly spanked and  _ not  _ physically getting off from anything else. He wanted the full feeling back, the feeling of Paul inside him. 

" _ Fuck _ , Richie, fucking  _ fuck me,"  _ The raven-haired man hissed suddenly, soon becoming frustrated with Ringo’s antics - seriously, was he not affected by this  _ at all?  _ "Pl-please?" 

Ringo laughed bitterly. "Don't fucking tell me what to do," He slapped Paul’s arse again, softer this time as to not hurt him too much (his arse was already bright red and Ringo didn't want to make it sting any more, didn’t want to give him more pleasure) and grabbed him by the hair, tugging  _ almost  _ harshly, but not quiet. Paul whimpered and looked at him with pleading eyes, ready to start fucking sobbing in desperation and neediness, trying his hardest not to push back down and get back onto his dick. He held back, however, and stayed still. Maybe Ringo would fuck him again soon if he was  _ good  _ \- a reward in itself. 

He was pulled off of the older’s lap and laid back onto the bed. He lay on his back with his legs spread wide, waiting for Ringo to go between them and fuck him again. Obviously, the universe was not on his side, as Ringo just continued to sit and stare at him. 

The younger felt himself rolling his eyes, not thinking anything of it until-

"Did you just roll your eyes?" 

_ Oh shit.  _

"Y-yes," Paul replied to Ringo’s question, face turning redder than before - Ringo would  _ never  _ fuck him now, he'd leave him desperate and leaking without any release. The younger looked away from him and let some tears escape, tears of frustration - he muttered an apology and attempted to squeeze his legs together for friction, but the older’s hands kept his legs apart.

Paul waited for Ringo to punish him more, to spank him, tie him up, do  _ something _ , but the punishment didn't come. 

Instead, Ringo thrust back inside him roughly, making the younger sob in relief. A few seconds later and the older was drilling into him, causing Paul to jolt with each thrust, arching his back as he **_finally _**_got what he fucking wanted. _

Paul wrapped his legs tightly around Ringo’s waist, heels digging into the older's lower back, moaning like a  _ fucking  _ whore. At this point, his brain wasn't working properly, and this was evident when all he could focus on was Ringo’s cock,  _ big  _ and  _ long  _ and  _ hard, _ ramming into him, the pleasure making him want to funking  _ scream out _ the older’s name, scream out  _ anything.  _

"Ringo, Ringo, Ringo," Paul mewled, twisting his hands in the sheets below him, still sobbing quietly - finally, the older was fucking him again and  ** _finally _ ** he could feel that particular pleasure once more. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned again, back arching, feeling his prostate being abused by the older, hitting it again and again and  _ again _ . 

The two kissed passionately, Ringo’s tongue instantly pushing past his lips and invading his mouth, lips moving together in sync. Their tongues slid against one another's and Paul moaned into Ringo's mouth softly, though it came out muffled. The older didn't stop thrusting, his hips stuttering and thrusts becoming uneven and inconsistent; his hands went back to Paul’s wrists and he held them against the bed, ensuring the younger wouldn't be able to move them. 

And this time, Paul didn't try anything that would get him in trouble. Instead, he stayed still and enjoyed the pleasure being given to him by Ringo, who was grunting and groaning and moaning above him, moving quickly towards his release. 

Ringo’s hands left his wrists. One went to his dick, where he began jerking him off slowly, the other went to his hair. In the midst of being jerked off, having his hair pulled and being fucked, Paul was screaming in pleasure - Ringo always made him feel so good,  _ fucking hell.  _ He knew  _ exactly  _ what to do at any given time. 

"Come for me," Ringo managed to get out, hips stuttering more - then the older came inside him, followed by Paul obeying his demand and coming too. 

After a few seconds, Ringo pulled out of the younger and lay beside him, breathing heavily, face red; he closed his eyes and caressed Paul’s thigh, feeling tired. The younger, who was also tired, moved onto his side to face Ringo, eyes locking with his. They smiled. 

"I love you," Ringo whispered to him, a smile adorning his face as he looked at his beautiful lover. And he really was beautiful, everything about him was - from his eyelashes to his hips, to his personality, all of it  _ gorgeous.  _

It took the younger a minute to respond, but when he did, it was in a soft voice and full of sincerity, "Yeah, yeah, I love you too," He soon added to it, "Let’s go to sleep, now."

"See you in the morning?" 

"Obviously."

-

Ringo woke up next to Paul the next morning, both naked, sticky come between them and on the bed. He smiled at the scene, the sun shining through the windows and dusting across the younger’s body and face, his rising and falling chest.

He stood up and pulled on some jeans, making his way to George and John’s room, knocking on the door; they opened it and invited him in, and the three sat on one of the beds, smoking and talking together fondly.

“We heard you and Macca last night,” John spoke up suddenly after a moment of prolonged silence, a smirk on his lips. Ringo nodded and blew out a puff of smoke right at him, causing him to cough and laugh right after, in turn making George laugh, and then the eldest.

George sighed, “Yeah, we both ‘eard, he’s a whore, isn’t ‘e?” 

The other two nodded in agreement, smiles adorning their faces rather than smirks, and everything was once again as calm as it could be.

Another few moments passed before another knock came to the door, and Paul opened it, wrapped in nothing but a thin hotel blanket (and presumably some boxers).

He looked ethereal like that, standing almost awkwardly, clad in white, while the sun, once again, shone on his pale, curved body.

“G’mornin’,” Paul’s voice slurred slightly as he spoke, “Can I ‘ave a smoke?”

George passed him one and lit it for him, and Paul sat down on the bed with him, his milky thighs peeking out from under the blanket, drawing all three pairs of eyes down before he glared slightly and covered them, causing the whole group to fall back into the laughter that had been there once not long ago.

-

“It’s not my fault that men find you sexy, Paul,” Ringo giggled, watching as Paul fell down onto the studio’s sofa, a loud sigh escaping his lips, “He didn’t have to do  _ that,  _ however.”

_ Paul had been standing outside, once again smoking, when a man had walked past and wolf-whistled at him, looking him up and down for a moment before clearing his throat, “You’re Paul McCartney, yeah?” _

_ Paul replied with a curt yes, and the man had called him hot, and then **squeezed his arse.** _

“Ugh,” Paul made grabby hands at the older, who sat down on the sofa and pulled him into his lap, “Richie.”

Ringo smirked, “It’s  _ sir  _ to you, Paulie.”

Paul blushed brightly and looked at him weirdly, “We’re on a dirty sofa,  _ sir.” _

“Oh come on, you know that’s never stopped us before.”

-

Ringo’s arms wrapped around Paul’s middle as they lay in bed together, warm under multiple layers of clothes and blankets; it was winter and the heating wasn’t working in the crappy hotel they were staying at, so they just had to make do with what was available.

“I hope I’m not too rough with you, sometimes,” The older spoke quietly, pulling Paul closer to him, chest pressed to his back, “I really am sorry if I am.”

“I know, Richie, but you’re never  _ too  _ rough; you know I love it.”

Ringo hummed and pressed his lips to the back of Paul’s neck.


End file.
